


My Beating Heart

by enigmaticblue



Series: The Letters 'Verse [2]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Maluku dig didn't have nearly as much allure in practice as it did in theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [effulgent_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=effulgent_girl).



> Written for my Christmas in July request ficathon, for effulgent_girl, who requested Booth/Brennan and hair. This...sort of fits, but it's a sequel to my fic, "Letters Home."

Brennan rose from her study of the bones, still half-buried in the mud. The dull ache in her legs and neck indicated that she’d lost track of time again, and she shrugged her shoulders, trying to release some of the tension.

 

“You’re making progress,” she said, looking over at the young man assigned to this part of the dig. “Keep it up.”

 

“Thank you, Dr. Brennan!”

 

She couldn’t remember his name, although she knew that he’d come with Dr. Fritz, who had spoken highly of him. But then, everyone on this dig represented the best of the best, a multi-national project of the highest order.

 

Brennan loved every minute of it, but it still felt as though she was missing a limb. And Daisy, who was a constant reminder of the Jeffersonian—of _home_—only made things worse, which was why Brennan was avoiding her as much as possible.

 

“Dr. Brennan!” Dr. Fritz’s voice stopped her as she walked towards the next set of remains that had been uncovered the previous day. He jogged up to meet her, dark blond hair falling over one eye, damp with sweat and humidity. “We’re heading to the Namlea airport to pick up supplies. Did you want to come?”

 

Brennan hesitated. “I really should—”

 

“Enjoy the beautiful surroundings?” he suggested with a wink. “Come, Dr. Brennan. We’re in one of the most beautiful parts of the world. Take some time to enjoy it.”

 

She sighed, knowing from experience that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she was unable to explain why she _couldn’t_ enjoy this project as much as she would have liked.

 

Still, in Namlea she would have a chance to check her email. Deep in the jungle, on the dig site, even the satellite phones were spotty at best. They had shortwave radios that could be used for emergencies, but Brennan had no interest in those.

 

“Let me grab my things,” she finally said.

 

Once in her tent, Brennan grabbed her laptop case and overnight bag, then pulled out the elastic in her hair and redid her ponytail. All the layers were growing out, and it had been a couple of months since she’d had a haircut, but Brennan couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

What she looked like didn’t matter on a dig for a number of reasons, unlike back in D.C., where there were juries, and witnesses, and interrogations—and _Booth_.

 

Dr. Fritz was waiting for her outside, and he made an aborted move to take one of her bags. “Do you need any help?”

 

The diffident question reminded Brennan that she might have been a little too hard on him the last time he’d tried to help her. “No, thank you.”

 

Brennan would have been just as happy to make the trip in silence. She had looked at the year on the Maluku dig as an opportunity to center herself, to remind herself of why she’d become a forensic anthropologist in the first place, and to regain some objectivity.

 

The problem was that she missed Booth like she would miss an arm or a leg. She missed the Jeffersonian, and the FBI building, and her co-workers and interns. Somehow, Brennan had forgotten that her job was to stand up for the victims, to give them a name and a face, and to tell their story.

 

Not that she would have passed up _this_ opportunity, but there were things she missed, and she’d said as much to Booth in her last email.

 

Really, her trip to Maluku would have been perfect if she’d known Booth was safe in D.C., or safe _somewhere_ that wasn’t a war zone.

 

“So, do you have anybody waiting for you back in Washington, D.C.?” Dr. Fritz asked as they bounced down a muddy rut through the jungle, their driver navigating with an occasional curse.

 

Brennan _thought_ he was just being friendly, but she couldn’t tell anymore. Angela or Booth had been the ones to interpret others’ gestures and expressions, to tell her when someone was subtly communicating a message Brennan couldn’t read.

 

“No, not really,” Brennan responded, knowing that the pause in conversation had probably gone on too long. “It’s complicated.”

 

Dr. Fritz smirked. “Everything is complicated from a certain perspective.”

 

Brennan bristled. “My partner is in Afghanistan, training troops. It’s a completely different situation.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His sympathy was immediate and genuine. “I’m sure you’re very worried about—him? Her?”

 

“Him. Booth.” Just saying his name out loud felt like invoking a talisman. Brennan could recall half a dozen peoples that had believed in the power of names, that saying a name gave the speaker power. She didn’t hold the same beliefs, but she couldn’t resist speaking about him now that she had the opportunity. “He was a sniper with the Army Rangers, and they wanted him back to train other soldiers.”

 

“Is that why you came on this trip?” Dr. Fritz asked.

 

“No,” Brennan replied too quickly. “It just—worked out that way.”

 

Dr. Fritz gave her a look of patent disbelief. “Uh huh.”

 

“I couldn’t pass this chance up,” Brennan said, and wondered if Dr. Fritz knew she was saying it to convince herself as much as him.

 

Dr. Fritz reached into his jacket pocket with the hand that wasn’t bracing himself against the jarring of the Jeep, and he handed her a picture. She smiled when she recognized him with another man, their arms around each other, both smiling broadly. “You look very happy.”

 

“Tony understood that I needed to come on this trip,” he explained. “But it is still hard to be away from him.”

 

“Yes,” Brennan said simply.

 

Dr. Fritz took the picture back and tucked it away. “If you need to talk to someone, Dr. Brennan…”

 

“Thank you.” Brennan didn’t know what more to say, but she added, “You can call me Temperance.”

 

He smiled, and she noticed that he had a nice smile. “And I’m Daniel.”

 

And Brennan couldn’t help but feel some of the loneliness ease.

 

~~~~~

 

With that understanding, Daniel left her alone in Namlea, insisting that she take the opportunity to check her email. “I called Tony yesterday,” Daniel said. “Unlike you, I’ve used the satellite phone in the camp.”

 

Thankfully, Daniel hadn’t questioned her as to why she hadn’t fought for time on the satellite phone, or pushed for use of the satellite signal on the laptop. Calling Booth was out of the question, and Brennan couldn’t quite put into words why she hadn’t tried to call other friends or family.

 

Maybe it was because she’d put her life on hold for a year; it was a mark of her attachment to Booth that she couldn’t do the same for their partnership. She _had_ to know that he was okay, and out of sight was certainly not out of mind.

 

When she opened her email client, Brennan saw half a dozen messages, with Booth’s somewhere in the middle. She opened the administrative emails first, including a monthly summary that Cam had taken it upon herself to send.

 

_Agent Perotta and Dr. Barnes have cleared about half the cases you and Booth cleared in the same amount of time,_ Cam’s accompanying explanation read. _And they don’t work nearly as well together. Dr. Barnes refuses to go out in the field, which I can respect, although I think it hurts their partnership._

 

Brennan smiled as she read between the lines; Cam continued to make it clear that she wanted Booth and Brennan back at the Jeffersonian, that they were important, and that what they did as a team couldn’t be duplicated.

 

It felt good, in a way few things in her life had before. It was validation of a different kind than being asked to head the Maluku dig because of her professional qualifications.

 

She dashed off a quick reply. _Thank you for keeping me updated, Dr. Saroyen. I’m glad to know that Dr. Barnes is working out, even if he isn’t quite up to the Jeffersonian’s usual standards._

 

Angela had written as well, and had attached a zip file of pictures, which Brennan downloaded for later viewing. Angela’s message made her laugh out loud, though. _Seriously, Brennan, Paris is amazing, and Hodgins…. Wow. Let’s just say that with my updated knowledge, your next book is going to be smokin’ hot._

 

Brennan quickly typed her reply, _I’m glad you and Hodgins are having such a great time in Paris. I’ll have to look at the pictures later. I don’t have much time right now. Tell Hodgins hi for me, and let him know that his book is coming in very handy._

 

Finally, she opened Booth’s email. Brennan read it three times through; she couldn’t quite catch all the words the first time through the tears in her eyes. Brennan could hear Booth’s voice in her head as she read it, and she didn’t want it to end.

 

She missed him far more than she’d thought possible.

 

_…It’s dry and dusty here, and hot during the days, although it cools off at night. I could use some of that moisture you’ve got in Indonesia. I spend most of my days training others. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss your interns. At least they know their asses from their heads, which is more than I can say for some of these kids._

 

Brennan chuckled. She missed her interns, too, although she had her fair share of people well below her level of intelligence to oversee.

 

_It’s harder here, too, because it’s impossible to tell if I’m doing any good. At least back at the Bureau I had a pile of cleared cases to show for myself at the end of the day. There are still kids dying here, every day, no matter what I do._

 

Brennan could hear the pain in his words, knew exactly what the expression on his face would be if he was telling her this in person.

 

But then, maybe that was the point. Maybe Booth wouldn’t have said these things in person. Maybe it was easier to be honest over email, although she and Booth had been honest with each other for a while now.

 

_I’m glad I came, though. I know that might sound strange, given what I’ve just written, but I would have regretted it if I hadn’t._

_Yours,_

_Booth_

 

Brennan swallowed hard and blinked the tears out of her eyes, before she began her reply.

 

_I know just what you mean._


End file.
